The Red Tent

The Red Tent by Anita Diamant is the story of Dinah, a tragic (and relatively obscure) character in the bible. Through Diamant's writing, the story of Dinah is made accessible and strangely familiar to a modern audience. The Red Tent is more than a resting place for menstruating women. The Red Tent is about renewal of the body and spirit. It is a celebration of womanhood. Biblically, a woman's cycle is attributed to the lunar calendar. We are indeed creatures of the moon. We wax and wane. Some days we feel uplifted, others we feel deflated. It accounts for the spectrum of emotions that defines what it is to be female. It is interesting that in a religion very much grounded on the actions and words of men, lineage is traced through the women. Diamant refers to the coy actions of women in the Bible (particularly Sarah and Rebecca's influence in determining which son should receive the blessing of his father,) as markers that significantly shaped the Jewish story. They say that behind every strong man, there is an even stronger woman. I think those words still hold both merit and truth in our reality. 

I will end with how Diamant beautifully closed the book (major spoiler alert):

"In Egypt, I loved the perfume of the lotus. A flower would bloom in the pool at dawn, filling the entire garden with a blue musk so powerful it seemed that even the fish and ducks would swoon. By night, the flower might wither but the perfume lasted. Fainter and fainter, but never quite gone. Even many days later, the lotus remained in the garden. Months would pass and a bee would alight near the spot where the lotus had blossomed. Egypt loved the lotus because it never dies. It is the same for people who are loved. Thus can something as insignificant as a name-two syllables, one high, one sweet- summon up the innumerable smiles and tears, sighs and dreams of a human life.

If you sit on the bank of a river, you see only a small part of its surface. And yet, the water before your eyes is proof of the unknowable depths. My heart brims with thanks for the kindness you have showed me by sitting on the bank of the river, by visiting the echoes of my name. Blessings on your eyes and on your children. Blessings on the ground beneath you. Whereever you walk, I go with you. Selah."

I've recommended this book to everyone in my life. I will be giving it to my mother for that convenient Hallmark holiday that is two weeks away. And I promise my next blog will not be so feminist in prose.

Holla for Challah

(Trust me, I am working on originality.)

This friday I attempted to make challah for the first time. In the Jewish mind, challah-making for girls is equivalent to wrapping tefillin for boys (see image.) It is a rite of passage, an ancient tradition that is transferred from one generation to the next. Also, both rituals (challah-making and wrapping tefillin) are sometimes used as a "recruiting" mechanisms for jews on the fringes. This phenomenon can be explained in one word: Chabad (the Starbucks of Orthodox Judaism- a topic to be discussed in an upcoming blog.)

The internet served as the surrogate jewish-mother-i-never-had (let it be known, that my mother is an absolutely wonderful and fabulous woman.) I used a recipe online and consulted youtube when it was time to braid the challah. I feel as though I am channeling some Julie & Julia vibes, and for that I am sorry. I am strictly a from-the-box-or-can girl (cereal, golden curry and pasta is my domain.) It was the first time I attempted to conjure an edible item from scratch. The challah making process began Thursday afternoon when embarked on a search for yeast. I have never bought yeast before, so can someone out there in cyber space please tell me the difference between rapid rise and active dry yeast? Aren't those terms synonymous? I mistakenly used self-rising flour instead of all-purpose flour (whoops.) For this reason, I was nervous to let the dough sit for an hour and a half, fearing that it would rise beyond the confines of the bowl, make its way onto the table, and eventually engulf my entire apartment. I would return to an apartment full of dough (which is one of my secret dreams, which I have now made public.) I think I've seen patch adams one too many times. All in all, challah making was relatively problem free. I'm looking forward to baking more challah. Next time I will experiment with craisins and herbs/spices.


These are my loaves after they came out of the oven. On the left is the three braided loaf, and on the right is the six-braided loaf. Each time I make challah, I am going to braid them in the next multiple of three i.e. next time 9, 12, 15, 18, 21 ... until finally it takes over the world.




And for all those who ask why the spheres of prayer and domestic obligation are separated according to gender, I give you this. Look out conservative movement for Rosie the Tefillin Wearer, coming to a synagogue near you!

Passover 5770: Holdin' it down in Golus

“They tried to kill us, we won, let’s eat.” This is the overall theme of the Jewish holidays. All Jews under the umbrella of Jewish religious observance will celebrate Passover. Passover commemorates the exodus from Egypt, from slavery to liberation. Like other holidays, Passover injects a heightened sense of awareness to our reality. Now the theme of bondage is (in progressive households) applied to a type of “mental slavery.” We as a society are slaves to the mundane, to obligation, to the hustle, to time. (When will we ever be truly liberated?) This is how Judaism (and religion in general), is applicable to both a specific time period and also for eternity.

Josh and I ventured down to sunny Florida to celebrate Passover with his family. A trip to Florida marked another proverbial Jewish initiation rite that I could check off my list. This blog post was almost titled, "Crockpots and a trip to Florida."

We held the second seder (seder sheni) in our apartment in the Bronx. We invited our hip neighbors (also an asian and jewish anomaly), Jennifer and Greg, our friends Angela and Nguyen, and Angela's brother Joey. The seder was abridged and unconventional, and we had tofu curry rather than brisket.

This year in Palm Coast and the Bronx. Next year, who knows?

PS: Galut literally means "exile," and of course is in reference to the exile of the Jewish people from the land of Israel. At the end of every seder, we are required to say Next Year in Jerusalem. With the creation of the State of Israel, even Jews in Jerusalem say next year in Jerusalem. To answer this complication the rabbis state that this is a reference to a "heavenly" Jerusalem, and not a physical one. Go figure.

I used to love bacon, now I study torah

After much deliberation, I have chosen to chronicle my journey with Judaism via blog. An anomaly is defined as a "deviation from an established rule or trend," here it is a reference to the strange social phenomenon known as the asian and jewish couple (which I realize is becoming less and less of an anomaly per say, and more of a societal norm.) My blog will follow the awkward transitional period from anthropologist to participant, from gentile to jew. I receive enough mockery from my family and friends that I figured it is about time I embrace it. This is how i will embrace the ridicule. This is how I will share my story.

PS. The title is (obviously) a work in progress, and I need help!!